


Come On With The Rain

by oliviacirce



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Codependent Band Family, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Group Sex, M/M, OT5, Orgy, Rain, Voyeurism, sex and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviacirce/pseuds/oliviacirce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're all completely soaked by the time they get offstage in Bern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come On With The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> It is really, really strange that I have been in this fandom for nearly a year, and haven't written an OT5 orgy. I AM HERE FOR THE OT5. So anyway, here is a fix for that problem! Thanks to mistresscurvy, harriet_vane, and sunsetmog. 
> 
> Warnings for some under-negotiated kink, a lot of feelings about rain, and One Direction's lack of boundaries. The title is from "Singin' in the Rain," which is probably obvious, and was definitely inevitable. I would also like to thank the members of Intensity Boat for encouraging my rain kink for so many years.

They're all completely soaked by the time they get offstage in Bern. Liam feels wet down to his bones, so wet that he can barely remember what it was like to be dry, almost can't imagine a time when his clothing wasn't clinging to his skin and dripping onto the floor. 

Harry's stripping off even before they're back in the dressing room, getting down to his boxers in nearly record time. Liam is caught by the sight of him: his long limbs and pale skin, glowing a little in the too-bright light of the backstage fluorescents, water droplets running down his chest and highlighting the dark lines of his tattoos. His nipples are hard, and Liam can see the clear outline of his dick through his pants. Harry catches him looking and winks. 

Liam flushes and looks away, searching out the others automatically. Louis and Niall are still high from the show, talking loudly over each other and racing towards the dressing room. Neither of them seems especially bothered by their wet clothes, but it's still hard for Liam to look away—not when Louis's wet t-shirt is clinging to the muscles of his chest, and not when Niall's rain-dark hair and damp skin make him look older, somehow, dangerous in a way that's not at all usual for Niall, and especially not when they're both shouting and laughing and hurling good-natured insults. 

Except that Zayn is walking along behind them, huddled into his hoodie and frowning down at his feet. He looks cold and miserable, and about a minute away from a proper strop. Liam goes over to him, catching him just outside the dressing room. "Alright, babe?" he asks quietly. 

Zayn looks up, and Liam has a moment of total disconnect, because there are raindrops glistening on Zayn's impossible eyelashes, and out on stage, in the storm, Zayn had stood tall, shining like some kind of god, or superhero, like _Thor_. Liam's fairly comfortable with the fact that Zayn is probably the most beautiful person in the world. Most of the time that's just _Zayn_ , familiar and ordinary; except when Zayn sneaks up on him and bowls him over without even trying. 

"I'm _wet_ ," Zayn says grumpily, making a face. He tugs on the hem of his top, wringing it out between both hands, and then he stares down at the puddle of water that leaves on his shoes, looking even more disgruntled. "And _cold_."

"C'mere," Liam says, tugging on the front of Zayn's hoodie until he steps closer and Liam can wrap him up in his arms. Zayn sighs and tucks his face into Liam's neck. 

"You're wet, too," Zayn points out, but Liam thinks he sounds less grumpy, and he's sure of it when Zayn licks his neck. "And you taste like rain." 

Liam presses a smile into Zayn's hair. Zayn tastes like rain, too. "We should get you out of those wet clothes." 

Zayn sniggers, and behind Liam, Louis says dryly, "Does that line really work for you, Payno?" 

Liam turns, keeping his hold on Zayn. Louis is leaning in the doorway of the dressing room with his arms crossed. He's still wearing his soaked t-shirt and his painted-on jeans, and the view is, Liam has to admit, pretty fucking spectacular. 

"I don't know yet," Liam says, grinning at Louis, and then he raises his eyebrows and lets the grin turn into a smirk. He learned the smirk from Louis, but it's his now. "Care to find out?" 

Louis laughs, delighted. "Do I ever," he says, and holds out his hand. "Come on, Zayn." 

Zayn unfolds from Liam to take Louis's hand, and lets Louis pull him into the dressing room. Liam follows, shutting and locking the door behind them. Paul and the rest are very good at working out when the five of them need a little privacy after a concert, but it still doesn't do to tempt fate, or make anyone uncomfortable. 

Inside the dressing room, Niall and Harry have started without them. Niall has Harry pressed up against a table, bent half backwards so that Harry's grip on Niall's hips looks like it's the only thing keeping him from falling over. They're snogging furiously, and Niall's hands are tangled in Harry's wet hair. Harry's hair is also dripping onto a stack of clean, dry towels, so Liam ignores the snogging for a moment in order to rescue the towels, carrying them across the room and out of the way. They're going to want them later, and nobody else ever remembers things like that. There's a note from Caroline pinned to the top towel: _All wet clothes and towels go in the dirty washing basket!! Dry clothes and macs waiting for you on the rack. xx._

Liam looks at the growing pile of wet clothes on the dressing room floor, and the puddle they're leaving there, and then he sighs and starts looking around for the washing basket. 

" _Liam_ ," Louis says impatiently, and Liam's head jerks around automatically, drawn to Louis's voice. Louis's wrapped himself around Zayn, his chin resting on Zayn's shoulder and his fingers tucked into Zayn's waistband. "Leave it. I need help getting Zayn's kit off." 

This is patently untrue; Louis has never needed help getting Zayn's kit off in his life. But his voice is firm and commanding, and Liam's never been able to resist that, not in all the years they've known each other. He leaves the wet clothes where they are and goes over to them, reaching out and unzipping Zayn's hoodie so that Louis can pull it off his shoulders. 

"I'm still cold," Zayn complains, but there's a hint of a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. 

"We'll warm you up," Louis says filthily, and tugs Zayn's t-shirt over his head. 

Liam steps in closer, plastering himself to Zayn's bare chest and running his hands up his arms. His skin is damp, cool and soft, and the hairs on his arms prickle under Liam's palms. 

"You're not gonna warm me up if you're still wearing all _your_ wet clothes," Zayn points out. He's definitely smiling now; he's never very good at maintaining a strop once he's got what he wanted. 

Liam leans in to kiss Zayn's smile. He means to keep it light, but at the last second Zayn flicks his tongue out to lick Liam's bottom lip, and then it's a proper snog. Liam kisses him slowly, because Zayn likes it slow, and he's a bit surprised when somebody's hands grab his arse, urging him closer. He can feel the press of Zayn's half-hard dick against his, through four layers of wet cloth, and those are _definitely_ Louis's hands on his arse, giving him a sharp, familiar squeeze. 

" _Hey_ ," Harry says loudly, somewhere off to Liam's right, "we're doing _The Notebook_!"

Liam blinks, startled, and lets go of Zayn. Sure enough, Harry's stood up, no longer bent back over the table, and he's holding Niall up with both hands on his arse. Niall's got his legs around Harry's waist and his arms around Harry's neck, and they're both still soaked through from the rain, laughing and bright-eyed and flushed. Harry looks thrilled. 

Louis rolls his eyes. " _The Notebook_ is not a sexual position, Harry." 

"Don't see why not," Niall says, and does a little shimmy that makes Harry's hands go white-knuckled on his arse. Liam's mouth feels suddenly dry. 

"You're doing it wrong, anyway," Louis adds. 

Harry's eyes narrow. "Like to see you do better," he says, which is, of course, exactly what Louis was angling for. Louis grins, and looks at Liam with his eyebrows raised, a question and a challenge. Liam swallows hard, and looks at Zayn. Zayn rolls his eyes and steps back, holding up his hands in a gesture that means _Go on, idiots_. Harry puts Niall down, and together they tug Zayn in to stand between them, arms looped around his waist. 

_Right_ , Liam thinks, and takes a few steps back, getting space between himself and Louis; across from him, Louis's doing the same. Their eyes meet, and hold, and then Louis finally pulls off his snapback and throws it over his shoulder. His hair is wet despite the snapback, and he shakes his head until the damp spiky mass of it is falling loose in his face, and then he's pacing across the room to Liam. 

Liam meets him just as Louis launches into his arms, and they slide seamlessly into the kiss, hot and desperate and deep. Liam hoists Louis up with one hand on his arse and tangles the other hand in his hair, gripping and pulling until Louis is moaning into his mouth. Louis wraps his legs around Liam's waist, ankles crossing in the small of Liam's back, and puts his arms around Liam's neck. His fingers curl tightly into the fabric of Liam's wet top. Louis feels feather-light in his arms, but Liam is suddenly hyperaware of the strength of him, the hard, flexing muscles of his thighs and shoulders. Before he even knows what he's doing, Liam's backing them up against the wall; when Louis's back hits the wall he lets go of Liam's neck, pressing his hands flat against the wall for leverage and arching up, practically riding Liam's dick through their wet trousers. They're both breathing hard, and Liam lets go of Louis's mouth for long enough to kiss his neck and the point of his jaw and the curve of his collarbone, where the wet, stretched-out collar of his t-shirt has slid down his shoulder. Liam licks raindrops from the hollow of Louis's throat, until Louis tugs Liam's mouth back up and kisses him again.

"Jesus fucking Christ," says Niall. He sounds a bit awed, Liam thinks, when he can think enough to put words together. Louis's still wrapped around him, trapped between him and the wall; his hand is still in Louis's hair.

"I stand corrected," Harry agrees. His voice is low and smoky, and when Liam manages to turn his head just enough to look at them, he sees that Harry's lost his boxers, and Zayn has one long-fingered hand wrapped around Harry's hard dick. 

"And _that's_ how you do _The Notebook_ ," Louis says smugly, breathless and triumphant at the same time. 

Liam giggles, happy and turned on and just the tiniest bit embarrassed. He tucks his face into Louis's shoulder, and then he's right there, so he bites Louis's collarbone. In response, Louis digs his heels into Liam's arse. 

"Let me down," Louis murmurs in his ear. Liam shivers, letting go of Louis reluctantly. Louis slides his legs down until he's standing on his own again, but he stays close, pressed against Liam as they turn to face the others. 

"Hey," Harry says, sounding a lot more cross than someone should when they've got Zayn's hand on their dick, "how come I'm the only one that's naked?" 

"Because you're a complete tart," Niall says cheerfully, undoing his trousers at the same time. "Fuck, these things are so wet, they're all stuck to me legs." 

"Need a hand there, Nialler?" Louis asks. 

Niall grins. "Don't mind if I do." 

Next to Niall, Zayn is still fisting Harry's cock, slow and steady and unhurried in a way that Liam knows from experience is utterly maddening. Harry's watching Niall with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, but he's slumped back against Zayn's chest and nearly boneless under his hands. Zayn catches Liam's gaze and smirks at him, and then reaches around to twist Harry's nipple; that makes Harry close his eyes and moan, and for a moment they all go still, looking at Harry. He looks—it's not like Harry getting off is an unfamiliar sight, even with his wet hair trailing over Zayn's shoulder and the long lines of his body on display; but tonight Liam thinks he looks a bit magic, like a mermaid on dry land, or—well, probably something less ridiculous, but just as unearthly and beautiful and strange. 

"Right," Louis says suddenly, his voice tight. He leans up and kisses Liam, hard and fast, and then he's across the room in a flash, dropping to his knees in front of Niall and shoving both hands into Niall's undone trousers. 

"Shit, Lou," Niall gasps, and then he makes an uncomfortable, wincing sort of face. "Uh, actually, this could get a bit ugly, like, I'm—" 

"What, did you get off already?" Louis demands, sounding annoyed. 

" _No_ ," Niall says, although it wouldn't be the first time—not for any of them, actually. "But I'm bloody hard as a rock, Lou, and these trousers are a disaster." 

Louis makes an unhappy noise, low in his throat, and then he says, "Liam, come hold Niall still for me, would you?" 

Liam blinks, coming out of the haze of watching them—Louis on his knees for Niall, and Zayn wanking Harry off right beside them; it's the worst part and the best part of doing this with all them, those times when he doesn't know what to do because he can't stop _looking_. 

He can follow Louis's instructions, though, so he goes to put his arms around Niall from behind. Niall leans back into him, and Liam kisses the corner of his mouth. Niall bites him, and then laughs. 

"There's a good lad," Louis says approvingly. "Now, this is going to be just like ripping off a plaster." 

"Oi," Niall says, sounding exactly like Louis for a moment. "Way to fill a bloke with confidence, mate." 

Louis grins, unrepentant, and yanks Niall's pants and trousers off together. 

"Ugh," Niall groans, shaking his legs free; loosed from the tangle of wet clothing, his dick bobs hard and flushed against his belly. Liam's mouth waters, looking down at him. "I'm so _wet_ ," Niall adds crossly, rubbing his hands down his damp thighs. 

"You're about to get wetter," Louis declares, and leans forward to get his mouth on Niall's dick. 

Liam loves watching Louis suck cock—they all do, and Louis knows it, so he likes to show off. He sucks Niall all the way down in one go, his cheeks hollowing and his eyes fluttering closed, and then pulls off slowly with a hot flicker of tongue, glancing up through his eyelashes before he goes back down. Liam looks at Louis's thumbs pressing bruises into the pale hollows of Niall's hips, and watches Niall's dick sliding in and out of Louis's red, slick mouth, and holds on tightly to Niall. His own dick is pressing up against Niall's arse, and Niall shoves back into him, and forward into Louis's mouth, and puts his head back on Liam's shoulder to kiss him sideways, until kissing is too much effort and he has to stop, eyes closing while he shakes in Liam's arms.

When Niall stops kissing him, Liam glances over at Harry and Zayn. Harry is watching Louis and Niall, too, and Zayn is watching Harry watch Louis and Niall, and they're both breathing hard. Zayn's hand is working faster and faster on Harry's dick, wanking him until he's gasping and struggling to keep his eyes open. 

"Harry," Liam says roughly, when he feels Niall stiffen against him and start to come, "Harry, come on, come now," and Harry groans, spilling over Zayn's hand just as Niall comes in Louis's mouth. 

Louis lets Niall slip out of his mouth a little too soon, and some of Niall's come gets on his face; it's a different kind of wet than the rain, Liam thinks, but it still looks shocking and gorgeous on Louis's golden skin. 

"Lou, c'mere," Harry says, slurred and sex-drunk. He's leaning heavily on Zayn, but he reaches out for Louis when Louis stands up, tugging him close and kissing his cheek and his mouth and his chin, licking his face clean. "You taste like Niall," Harry says happily. 

"Oi," Louis says, stripping off his t-shirt and handing it to Zayn, so that Zayn can wipe off his hands. "What, do you only want me for Niall?" 

Harry laughs and kisses Louis again. "Nope," he says. "I like you, too. And Zayn. And Liam." He kisses Louis's cheek, and then tilts his head back to look at Zayn. "Zayn, Zaynie, can I do you now? Can I, please?" 

"Hmm," Zayn says, looking over Harry's shoulder at Louis, and then in one smooth motion both Zayn and Louis turn to look at Liam. They've got exactly the same speculative gleam in their eyes, and Liam straightens abruptly. In his arms, Niall makes a sleepy, discontented noise, and opens his eyes. 

"What's—" Niall mutters, and then he takes in Louis and Zayn and Harry, all looking at Liam, and says, "Oh," suddenly sounding much more awake. "Is he doing it again?" He steps out of Liam's arms and turns to look at him, going to stand with the others. 

"Yes," Louis says. "He's been watching." 

"Well," Harry says slowly, " _I_ don't mind, if Liam likes to watch." Then he frowns. "I do mind that he's still wearing all his clothes, though." 

Liam flushes. He doesn't—he didn't mean—it's just that when they were on stage, with the storm raging around them and the rain falling so hard it went sideways, all four of his boys had been like—like stars, shining and blindingly bright, singing their hearts out against the storm. Liam will never, ever get tired of this, not of performing together and not of what they do afterwards (and before, and sometimes on days with no shows at all), but sometimes he feels so overwhelmed by how much he loves them, by how beautiful they are, that he doesn't even know where to start. 

"He was doing it on stage, too," Zayn says suddenly. "In the rain, he kept looking at us like he wanted us to fuck right there on the wet stage in front of the fans." 

"I—" Liam starts, but Zayn is right; Zayn is usually right. "Zayn," he says, "you have no idea—do you have any idea how you _looked_ tonight? All of you? It was so much, it was just, I couldn't—" 

"How _we_ looked," Zayn starts, but then Louis's talking over him, "You should have seen _you_ , Liam, you were like—soaking wet and, and fucking—Zayn, what's that word—" 

"Incandescent," Zayn says. Liam has no idea what that means, but he does know what it means when Zayn and Louis are both stalking towards him, their eyes hot and dangerous. He backs up, letting them back him into the table, and then he's cornered. 

Zayn kisses him first. He presses into Liam's side, one hand planted on the table behind them to cage Liam in—and Liam knows, just like he always knows, that he could get free easily; but that doesn't mean he wants to—and kisses him. The press of his mouth is hot and familiar, and Liam opens to him immediately; he gets a little lost in kissing Zayn, until suddenly there are hands fisting in the wet fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him away, and then it's Louis's turn. 

Louis and Zayn are very different kissers—Louis is dirty and unpredictable, and Zayn is slow, methodical and sweet—but they're equally devastating. They pass him back and forth until Liam can barely tell which way is up. Louis's got one leg shoved between Liam's, his dick rubbing against Liam's thigh, and Zayn's fingers keep sliding up Liam's back, sending little shivers down his spine. 

"Liam," Louis says in his ear, when it's Zayn's turn again. It takes Liam a minute to realise that Louis's trying to get to his attention, but when he does he leans into him, tilting his head to give him better access. "Take Zayn's trousers off," Louis says, and runs his teeth lightly down Liam's neck, until Liam has to pull away from Zayn's mouth to breathe. 

"Go on, bro," Zayn says, grinning at him. His mouth is red and wet from kissing, and it takes all of Liam's concentration and the steady weight of Louis pressing him back against the table for him to get Zayn's trousers undone and shoved down his narrow hips. They're still soaked through, though, and like Niall's, earlier, they're so tight and so wet that they don't go down easily. He's frowning at the problem when Zayn reaches out and traces his finger along Liam's bottom lip, and that's all it takes for Liam to slither down to his knees. It's easier to get Zayn naked once he's kneeling in front of him. Liam helps Zayn step out of his shoes and wet socks, and then out of his trousers and pants; at Liam's eye level, Zayn's dick is gorgeous, slender and dark and curved, and leaking a little at the tip. 

Louis's hand settles on his head. "I think you should suck Zayn off," he says. It's light and conversational, but the breathlessness of his voice gives him away.

"I wanted to do that," Harry complains. 

Liam peers around Zayn's hip, looking for Harry and Niall. They've dragged one of the cushioned dressing room chairs over to the table and are squished into it together, with Niall draped over Harry's lap. They're both still naked, and Harry is playing idly with Niall's nipples. 

"You can do Liam, after," Louis says, which makes Harry look a little mollified, and then grin at Liam. 

Niall raises his eyebrows. He looks sleepy and sated, curled into Harry's chest, but his eyes are alert as he watches them. "What about you then, Lou?" 

"I've got a plan," Louis says loftily, and then he rubs his hand over Liam's head and curls his fingers around the back of his neck. "Go on, Liam," he says, guiding him forward. 

Liam tastes Zayn first, licking over the wet head of his dick and chasing the familiar salty-sweet taste of him; he closes his eyes and noses at the crease of Zayn's thigh, until all his senses are full of Zayn and sex. Then he wraps both hands around Zayn's hips and open his mouth over his cock. After a moment, Zayn's hands come to rest on his head, his long fingers scratching softly through Liam's hair. 

Liam loves blowing Zayn—he loves it with all of them, really, but he likes the way Zayn always starts off a bit more polite than the others, how he'll wait patiently while Liam adjusts to the weight of his cock on his tongue, and works past the initial roughness of his gag reflex until he can take him all the way down his throat; it took Liam a while to learn that, and he knows Zayn appreciates it, knows Zayn is proud of him for learning. That always makes Liam feel hotter, sexier, and it's no different tonight. 

What is different tonight is the steady pressure of Louis's hand on the back of his neck, keeping him in place, holding him down where Zayn might let him up. It's harder to breathe, and his eyes water, but it feels amazing, and then it gets even better when Zayn finally gives in and starts fucking Liam's mouth. Then Liam can just hold on and _let him_ , Louis keeping him steady as Zayn takes what he wants. He can hear Zayn and Louis kissing above him, until Zayn's fingers tighten suddenly in Liam's hair and he says, "Liam, _fuck_ , babe, I'm gonna—" and Liam swallows around him as Zayn comes in his mouth. 

He leans his forehead against Zayn's hip afterwards, trying to catch his breath. Louis's still stroking the back of his neck, but then someone else touches his face with gentle, callused fingertips—Niall, then—and Liam looks up. Niall and Harry are stood behind Zayn. Harry is kissing him, and Niall has both arms around his waist—giving him someone to lean on, Liam thinks.

"That was hot," Niall says to Liam. 

Liam blushes, and turns his face into Niall's hand. "Thanks." 

Niall grins. "You want to get up here so we can take your clothes off?" 

As soon as Liam's on his feet, Louis's shoving his hands down the back of his jeans and pants. "Should've got these off you ages ago," Louis mutters, cupping Liam's arse. His fingers press up and in, spreading Liam a little, and Liam shoves back into his hands. He's so hard; he feels like he's been hard for hours and hours, since the first minute the skies opened. 

At Liam's front, Niall is making short work of his buttons and zip. Between them, Niall and Louis get Liam's trousers off, and then his t-shirt. He toes out of his shoes and socks himself, and then Niall hooks his fingers into the front of Liam's pants—tented obscenely over his dick, he sees, when he looks down—and eases them off him. 

" _Fuck_ ," Liam says, when Niall steps in to kiss him and the head of his dick slides wetly over Niall's stomach. "Lads—" 

"Yeah," Louis breathes. His hands are still on Liam's arse, and he slides one of them lower until he's squeezing Liam's bollocks. 

"Chair?" Louis asks, which makes no sense to Liam, especially not when Louis is touching him like that; but then Niall says, "Yeah, right, good idea," and the two of them are tugging him over to the cushioned chair. 

"Towel," Zayn says. He and Harry have stopped kissing, but they're still wrapped around each other. Zayn's cheeks are pink, and his hair is a mess. "Liam's too far gone to think about it, but he'll get sad later if we don't." 

Liam frowns at him, confused, but then Niall's racing across the room to where Liam left the clean towels. He brings one back with him and spreads it out on the chair, and then he and Louis push Liam down to sit. Sat in the chair naked, with his legs spread and his dick hard and leaking, Liam feels on display. It's not exactly a surprise that having them all looking at him makes him hotter, makes him want to hide his face, and also start wanking just so they can _watch_ , but—he hadn't know this was where tonight was going. 

"Harry," Louis says softly. His eyes are raking up and down Liam's body, hot and intent. 

"Yay," Harry cheers, and then shrugs a little when Louis gives him a bit of a look. 

"Don't get him off, though, Haz," Louis adds abruptly. 

Harry pouts. "But—" 

"I—" Louis starts. Liam thinks he's starting to sound a little desperate, and he can see how hard he is, even though he's the only one of them still wearing clothes. "I just, sorry, I know I said, but—" 

"Hey," Harry cuts in, hugging Louis tightly and kissing his cheek. "You've got a plan, Lou, I get it." He kisses Louis's mouth. "Even when your plans go a bit sideways, it's cool with us," he adds, and then he grins. "Besides, Niall'll be ready to go again in a few minutes." 

"That's true," Niall agrees. 

Louis smiles. "Okay," he says, kissing Harry again and then letting him go. "Liam, Harry's going to suck you until you can't remember your own name, but don't come. Got that?" 

Liam swallows hard. "Yeah," he says hoarsely. From where he's sat in the chair, he can see all of them: Harry getting down on his knees, and Louis stood with his hands on his hips, and Zayn and Niall leaning against the table. While Liam looks, Niall hops up to sit on the table and stretches out his legs, resting his foot on the arm of the chair. Liam curls a hand around his ankle, and grabs on to the chair with the other just as Harry takes him in his mouth. 

Harry's mouth is wide and wet, and he's so good at this—better because he knows exactly how to make Liam come apart, knows to take him slow at first, and then faster, to wrap his hand around Liam's dick and cup his bollocks while he licks over the head, knows to take his time. The pressure of his hand is enough to keep Liam from coming—would be, probably, even if he didn't have Louis's instructions—but Liam can't help pushing a little into Harry's mouth, gasping and desperate when Harry lets him. He gets lost in it, in Harry's mouth and the way his damp hair feels curling around Liam's fingers when he finally lets go of the chair, and he can't tell how much time has passed when Harry finally pulls away. 

Liam blinks his eyes open to see Harry grinning and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He's still got one hand in Harry's hair, but he lets go when Harry sits back on his heels. 

"Your turn, Lou," Harry says, and gives Liam a very dirty wink. Liam can't even— _god_. He looks helplessly away from Harry, and then he sees Louis. 

Louis's taken his trousers off, and his pants, and he's got his dick in his hand, stroking a little. For a second, Liam is a bit cross that Louis took his clothes off on his own, but then Louis is climbing onto the chair and straddling Liam's lap, and he's got nothing left to complain about. 

"Alright, love?" Louis asks. Liam nods furiously and reaches for him. 

Louis kisses him as deeply as he had when they were doing _The Notebook_ , fresh out of the rain, and Liam meets him. He kisses him and kisses him, letting go of Niall's ankle so that he can get both hands on Louis's arse, and Louis grinds down into Liam until their dicks are pressing against each other, slick and hard. Louis slides one hand down over both of them, not even wanking, just rubbing them roughly together and getting his fingers wet with precome. He's half riding Liam's thigh, and Liam tightens his grip on Louis's arse, trying to get closer. There's no time, and they haven't got any supplies, and they don't usually, right after a show in the dressing room with all their crew still around, but he just really wants Louis to fuck him. 

"I'm going to come all over you," Louis says suddenly, grinding down harder against him, and—yeah, okay, that works too. 

"Okay," he gets out, his voice gritty and rough, and Louis throws his head back and laughs. Liam holds on while Louis thrusts down again, and again, and then Louis gets his own hand on his dick at the last minute and comes wet and hot, on Liam's dick and stomach and thighs and all the way up his chest. 

"Fuck," Liam says, shaking a little; he's still hard, but he feels amazing. 

"You're not done yet," Louis says. His voice is completely shot, and he's shaking, too; but he kisses Liam and then slides off his lap, squirming around in the chair. Liam goes where Louis moves him, until Louis's behind him and Liam's sat between his legs with his back to Louis's chest. Louis kisses Liam's neck and reaches around him to take hold of his dick. 

" _Oh_ ," Liam gasps. Like this, he's even more on display than he was before: Louis's hands are on him, his knees holding Liam in place. When Liam looks down, he sees that Harry is still on the floor, looking up at them with his lips parted and his eyes bright. Liam reaches out for Niall's ankle again, trying to keep grounded, trying to keep from flying away entirely, and Zayn catches his hand. He's come to sit on the arm of the chair, and he and Niall are both looking at Liam intently. 

"You can," Louis's saying, almost a whisper. "Liam, it's okay, you can come, we're all watching you. You're so—fuck, you're so gorgeous." 

Liam can feel their eyes on him while Louis wanks him, even after he closes his own eyes. He wraps his hand over Louis's, around his dick, until they're wanking him off together, until he's showing off a little, too. He loves them all so much; if they want to watch him come, then he can do that—he _can_ , he thinks, and that's all it takes. 

It's a while before he comes back down, and when he does, the first thing he notices is Zayn's hand stroking down his chest. "Hey, bro," Zayn says warmly, patting Liam's stomach; then he looks down, and seems to notice that he's got Louis's come—or maybe Liam's—all over his fingers. He wrinkles his nose and holds his hand out to Niall. Niall grins, and licks Zayn's fingers. 

"I'm not complaining," Liam says, turning his head on Louis's shoulder so that he can look at him, "but why exactly were you so set on coming all over me, Lou?" 

Louis smiles at him, shrugging a little. "You liked being wet," he says, like it's obvious. Maybe it is obvious; Liam is usually pretty obvious to Louis, even before he's obvious to himself. 

"I suppose I do," Liam says, smiling back. There's no sense worrying about it, anyway, not when all of them are in it together. He lets himself relax back into Louis's chest. They should dry off, clean up, get their wet clothes into the laundry, _leave_ , but—tonight was something special, with the storm, and after; he thinks maybe they can stay here a little longer, just this once.

*

Later, after they've finally gone back to the hotel, and got something to eat, and once they're clean and dry and curled up together in one of the enormous hotel beds, Liam spoons up behind Harry and tucks his face into the warm skin at the nape of Harry's neck. Harry presses sleepily into him; his hair is still damp—from the shower, this time, but Liam imagines his skin still tastes a little like rain. 

"D'you think it'll rain in Turin?" Liam asks drowsily, kissing Harry's neck. 

"Mmm," Harry murmurs. "If it does, we're all going to get the flu." 

"Maybe," Liam says. Harry's not wrong, but Liam still wants it to rain again. He wants to see them all in the rain again. If somebody does catch a cold, he doesn't suppose he'd mind taking care of them, and bringing them tea, and cuddling them until they get well again. 

Harry turns his head, landing a kiss on Liam's cheekbone. "It's hot, though," he says, his quiet voice going dreamy. "Tonight was so great, Liam." 

"Yeah," Liam agrees, a little breathless again just thinking about it. 

"Go to sleep," Zayn mutters, sleepy and cross. He reaches across Harry to pick up Liam's hand, and tucks their joined hands into the space between his body and Harry's, fingers twining possessively with Liam's.

On Liam's other side, Louis curls into his back. "Seriously," he says, a little louder than any of them have spoken since they turned out the lights, and Niall lets out a sudden snore from where he's sprawled over Zayn. There's a startled pause, and then Harry giggles, which sets off the rest of them. Niall doesn't wake up, though, and Liam can hardly blame him—even laughing, he's nearly asleep. 

Louis's breath gusts over Liam's bare shoulder as he laughs, making Liam shiver a little, until Louis stops laughing and slings an arm over Liam's chest and a leg over his thighs. "If it rains in Turin," Louis says slowly, with the familiar air of a challenge, "I say we all fuck Liam, one right after another." 

Liam's breath catches in his throat. Zayn squeezes his hand, and makes an approving noise. " _Oh_ ," Harry says, sounding nearly as breathless as Liam feels. Liam turns into him, feeling Harry all along his front and Louis at his back and Zayn and Niall just in reach, all his boys around him on the bed. 

"Yeah, alright," he says, and falls asleep praying for rain.

**Author's Note:**

> References: For inspiration, see my [rain kink](http://oliviacirce.tumblr.com/tagged/rain+kink) tumblr tag. If you have not seen the famous kissing scene from _The Notebook_ , it's on [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9JTfU7YtGQ), but you should actually watch Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling [reenacting](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXPC6qIB3Gk) it at the MTV Movie Awards, which is even better. Finally, there is [this interview question](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_nreIaxL6o&feature=youtu.be), which I did not see until after I had written most of this fic, but is still very important.


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